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by Six_Lily_Petals



Series: A World without Magic [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, F/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Six_Lily_Petals/pseuds/Six_Lily_Petals
Summary: A twist on the MCIT:  Krem & Bull were sent to the modern world as a last resort to save Thedas by Flemith.  The solution involved time travel which left Krem as the one who holds the knowledge of things that could come to be.  He remembers how the Chargers formed, but how will he ensure they get together when circumstances change unexpectedly.This is part 3 of'A World Without Magic'series but should be able to read as a stand-alone.





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**Carastes, Tevinter Imperium**

Civil disobedience. Disturbing the peace. Soldiers too green to be sent to Seheron augmented the city guard when civilians were too disruptive. During holidays, drunkenness tended to be the main culprit.  Those from notable families were carted home to their estates. All of the others were aggressively ‘encouraged’ to leave the public squares.

One man was being particularly insubordinate. The mix of alcohol, quat, and piss emanated from the man was beyond offensive and shortened the patience of the already irritated soldiers.

“I said get out of here! Move it!” A sergeant bashed the man into the gutter with his shield.

Since they weren’t there as a matter of enforcing Marshall law, the soldiers were unarmed. A shield their only equipment since it could be considered defensive.

Krem felt himself in a haze. Looking around, everything was familiar, eerily so. Turning back to the drunk, he could hear the man’s exact words in his mind before they were actually uttered.

“Likes it rough does you? Jealous you can’t get a decent piece of ass?” the man cackled.

“What did you say to me?” The sergeant’s tone changed, a degree hotter than irritated, he was edging on livid.

In a flash, the scene came to life in Krem’s mind.

An argument.

Stubbornness, taunting.

A beating.

A man bleeding to death in the alley.

In that previous encounter, that other timeline, Krem had been afraid. His desire to fit in, to be one of them, _to belong,_ had guided his actions. In that other life, a scared child had done what he thought necessary. He’d killed an innocent drunk. The feel of ribs cracking under his boot had haunted him for years.   

Stunned, still uncertain of what was happening, unsure if this were a nightmare, he remained stuck stiff as the scene continued to play out.

“Whore spawn!” The sergeant kicked the drunk in the ass.

Another soldier copied the action.

Krem’s gut twisted. The reality became clear and the haze obscuring his thoughts thinned.

Praxis.

Galactica.

The Eluvian.

Holy shit it fucking worked.

“Stop!” The command came naturally, steadily from Krem.

A mass of confused and surprised eyes all leapt onto him. A younger Krem would have shrunk under the scrutiny. He was not that child anymore.

“There is no need for that. Jenus, Artimes, get this sod out of here.” Turning on his sergeant, Krem pointed a firm finger. “Save your bloodlust for the Qunari.”

Anger boiled beneath the sergeant’s eyes. Balling his fists, he marched up into Krem’s face. “You saying you got a problem with my methods, Lieutenant?”

Not backing down, not even pushing the man away, Krem calmly answered. “Yeah. Get your shit together or I’ll snap your spine to the point you won’t need a whore to suck you off.”

Doubt slithered under the sergeant’s skin. His eyes darted to the other soldiers around him. No one had seen the Lieutenant behave this way. The sudden change sent a jolt of fear through his gut at the disturbing and sudden change.

Shuddering, the sergeant backed off, now wholly unsure what to expect from the officer that used to be so pliable. “Y-yeah, sir.”

A sudden punch to the face had the sergeant’s ears ringing and his vision filled with spots. It had been so unpredictable that his entire body spun.

“Try that again soldier,” barked Lieutenant Aclassi

The sergeant stumbled back into the ranks. “Yes, sir!”  

Surveying his platoon, Krem felt the mood change. He could see it in their stance, the way they held their shields. To them, he was as fresh as a newborn babe, dependent on direction and easily manipulated.

But the Eluvian had worked.

Now he was Cremisius Aclassi of Bull’s Chargers. Four years wiser and more experienced than the boy he had once been.  

“Everyone, back to the plaza until everyone is cleared out. Anyone give you trouble, come to me.”

The chorus of ‘yes, sir’s were music to his ears. In his old life, he’d never had such a committed response.  Krem trusted the unit well enough to disappear in the officer’s quarters to gather his thoughts. Although his brain knew what had happened and where he was, his body had a difficult time adjusting. Walking through the plaza felt surreal. The sight of stars in the sky instead of a eerie green hue made it all feel like a dream.   

It had taken a few blocks to reach the building. It wasn’t until he passed the sentry within and closed the door to his office that he registered the weight of his armor. It was heavy. Curiosity planted a thought in his head and he worked to remove his armor. He checked his legs, side, arms - all of them unfamiliar to him. It was the flesh of a younger man that bore fewer scars. Oddly, it made him sick to his stomach.

With both hands gripping his desk, he took slow, deep breaths. Closing his eyes, he took stock of his situation. According to _him_ he was a member of the mercenary group called The Bull’s Chargers. But there was more at the fringe of his memory, like a dream half remembered.

Glancing at his desk he blindly sought something that would jog his memory.  

A book.

Taking a pen in hand he snatched up the blank journal and began to write, writing down all of his earliest memories of the first time he lived through these years. He had to. Before they were erased.  

_Krem, it’s yourself writing to you. You’re not crazy. Things have been weird and they are going to get weird again. No matter what happens, DO NOT LOSE THIS BOOK. Four years from now you travelled..._

Should it be ‘will travel’? It looked like lunacy. Krem shook out his hand, re-reading what he wrote. “Past.  It happened and I will make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

_Four years from now you travelled to another world, a place where worlds are created and stored like novels on a bookshelf.  The world went to shit when one of those people from the other side, Sunset Praxis, accidently crossed over into Thedas.  She set in motion events that led to the destruction of the world under Corypheus - all mages fell dead in one day and the Inquisitor committed suicide.  There was no hope, no options.  Desperate, we traveled to the Praxis’ world.  Once there we discover that her people, her brother-in-law specifically, was the being or one of the beings that actually created our world.  He’s not all Maker-powerful, he couldn’t fix what had been done, only go back.  He called it ‘loading the last save’, sort of like returning to a bookmark.  After stepping through an Eluvian they built, you awoke here in the middle of things.  Remember, keep this book as you might forget all of this.  Chris warned that as time passed, it is possible that you will lose your memories.  He likened it to turning to an earlier chapter in a book then re-writing the story over the old one._

_What happened before cannot happen again. Fortunately, although our time has been reset, Praxis’ hasn’t. She and hers will know to stay far away from Thedas._

**Area 51, Nevada**

Sunset Praxis sat between her brother, Hunter, and Tru Tran. Two men she trusted explicitly. Which was why they were doing interviews and why they were in a rush.

A soldier sat across from them in dress greens. His back iron rod straight, his fists closed and resting stiffly on his thighs.

“It says in your hobbies that you go bow hunting?” Hunter asked while holding the man’s resume.

“Yes, sir.”

“Recently?”

“Yes, sir”

Tran tapped Praxis’ arm so she could watch him roll his eyes. The soldier wouldn’t see, he had the standard thousand yard stare, purposefully avoiding eye contact.  

She snapped her fingers and whistled at him like a dog. “Hey, look at me. This isn’t the same shit you’re used to. This isn’t regular military, this isn’t even backdoor shit. If we pick you for this, you’ll probably never wear that uniform again.”

He looked at her, expressionless.

“Hunter’s company has found an unexplored world, a place that no one from earth has ever been to.  We, as in us,” Tran swiveled a thumb between himself and Praxis.  “And one other guy we’ve got to sign on.  The structure you’re used to, the rules, everything, will no longer exist.”

Praxis added, “He means to say we’ve found a world that has magic and mythical beasts. Our mission will be to spend a few years exploring and documenting the world,”

Surprise finally crossed the soldier’s face. “As in outer space?”

Hunter flipped through his paperwork. “Sure, whatever makes you comfortable.  We’re not even sure ‘magic’ is the right word for what we observed.”

“If you needed me for hunting skills, then why bother interviewing military?  Surely there are others that engage in such activities as a primary occupation as opposed to a hobby.”

Praxis smiled. “What leads you to believe that we’re only interviewing military?”

The soldier’s eyes circled the room.  “This location. If you did bring civilians out here then you’d probably have to make them ‘disappear’ if they were not chosen.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Tran leaned back in his chair. “Would that bother you?”

Silence fell. The soldier’s firm composure fell as he scanned the three interviewers. He sighed. “A lot of things bother me.” There was more quiet as he rubbed at his face, searching for the right words. “Many I know I can’t do anything about. There’s only so much a person can do. Which can’t be mistaken for apathy, hear me out. If it’s worth it to someone, a people, or even just me, I’m in 100%”

“How would you determine that worth?” Hunter asked.

The soldier shook his head as though asked to explain the impossible. “How do you choose a religion?  How do you choose a lover? You may have all the facts to make the best decision or only some. Then you’re just left with your gut.”

Praxis’ lips curled up into a thin smile. “I’m sure given the fact that we got you out here with only a few hours notice that you can surmise we are in a bit of a hurry. I recently murdered my drug dependent, abusive father and we’re using this expedition to keep me out of the reach of Johnny Law. Hell, we can’t even promise that you’ll ever come back here. Now that you know that fun little tidbit, what does your gut tell you?”

The soldier actually laughed. Looking from one interviewer to the other to join in on the joke.

They didn’t.

“You’re fucking serious then?”

“Of course,” Tran answered deadpan.

His shoulders slumped and eyes lost all focus. The panel of interviewers allowed him uninterrupted silence to accept the weight of the new reality he was facing. Eventually, with a slow shrug of his shoulders he took off his jacket. The miniature medals jingled as he draped it over the back of his chair. “I think my gut is hungry for adventure.”

 

_One good thing to remember is that you’re not alone, Krem.  You came through the Eluvian with Bull. If you have memories of the things to come, then so does he. A good plan would be to ditch the Tevinter Army soon and meet up with Bull, maybe catch him before he joins Fisher’s Bleeders. He’ll have a plan, he’ll be able to sort all this crazy shit out.  The big ass will probably find you first._

 

**Reeducation Center, Seheron**

The heat was oppressive, making hard labor near torture. Salty sweat poured down his face. He could feel the pattern the little water beads made with each slight breeze. A heavy cart loaded down with rough cut stones trailed behind him. Leather straps cut into his skin with each step he took. Pain was ignored. He thought of nothing. Not of drink, nor rest. Only moving forward until told otherwise.

In this moment, he was useful.

All he knew of time was day and night. How many hours he spent working, how many days he’d been here was entirely unknown. It wasn’t because he was incapable of keeping track, it was because he chose not to. The Qun didn’t need him to think, so he didn’t.

The Viddasala that had been with him through his entire reeducation joined him and walked beside him.  “Today is your last day in the quarry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” An automatic response.

“You have been deemed capable of returning to the field.” She watched his body as she spoke, scanning his muscles, watching his eyes to see how he would respond to the news. There was no discernable reaction. Either he hid his displeasure well or he truly has no opinion. Either was good enough for her. “You will travel to Orlais and perform reconnaissance as the Qun finds necessary. All details will be provided to you in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You have done well returning to the Qun, Hissrad.” There were a few hours of daylight remaining and there was no point in pulling him from his current duty. The Viddasala turned to head back to the main compound.  

In the main office she was greeted by one of the re-educators. “How is he today, Viddasala?”

“I believe that he is ready. Have you prepared the briefs for him?”

The Tamassran was mildly surprised. “Are you certain? He still has the nightmares, the visions.”

Viddasala shrugged off the concern. “That is all they are at this point. He only believes the reality we have given him. If he ever doubts that then…” She waved her hand flippantly in the air.

The Tamassran swallowed thickly then executed the Viddasala’s orders.  


End file.
